


Growing Pains

by DogwoodsAndBluebells



Series: To Raise a Child [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Gen, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, written before phase two started
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogwoodsAndBluebells/pseuds/DogwoodsAndBluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Child rearing had been easy when Abby was small and quiet and easily amused by firing repulsors or flights with Thor. Pre-teen years, on the other hand, were turning out to be much more of a minefield than the Avengers had predicted. Rated for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> I do not proclaim to be any sort of expert in the culture of home schooling, considering I spent roughly two seconds on the internet for research, nor is my expertise in child-rearing of any kind. If there are glaring mistakes, then I wholeheartedly apologize, and humbly ask that you please try to look past them and enjoy the story.

"Uncle Bruce?"

Snapping himself from his contemplation of a group of Neanderthals, Bruce shifted his gaze to Abby. The Museum of Natural History bustled around them, small children shrieking with excitement and the gentle murmur of their parents' admonishments. His mind wandering, Bruce contemplated the changes that a few short years had wrought.

Abby was older now, a vivacious girl of twelve rather than the lost little child that had come to live with them after Phil Coulson's death. She'd regained her desire for speech after much coaxing and prodding, mostly by Tony, and soaked up her lessons with ease and fervor.

It was Bruce, surprisingly, that had decided that Abby needed to begin to socialize with other children. After venturing to Steve with his opinions, the two of them researched and vetted a few home school co-ops in the vicinity, finally choosing the one they thought was best. This month's activity was a field trip to the Museum of Natural History with a few of the other families.

"Uncle Bruce!" Blinking rapidly, Bruce refocused his attention on Abby, her hands perched impertinently on her hips. "Can we stay a little longer? The museum won't close for another couple of hours."

Bruce adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Well, if we stay until closing, we'll be late for dinner. And you know that Uncle Steve likes to have to whole family together at the table."

"Not the whole time," she assured him hastily, clasping her hands in front of her. "Maybe, just another hour."

Bruce frowned in contemplation, weighing the pros and cons of giving Abby what she clearly wanted and dealing with the wrath of The Uncles later, when movement caught his eye.

Standing to the side, just close enough to be invested in the conversation, was a gangly young boy of about thirteen. Bruce recognized him from the co-op as Colin McShea, a brilliant, but shy, kid who reminded Bruce painfully of himself at that age. Colin had donned a well-worn green shirt proclaiming, "Hulk Smash!" in violently purple lettering, Bruce noted with amusement. Colin's mother, Nora, hovered nearby, her lips twitching with a grin at her son's anxious waiting.

The kid was clearly trying to be subtle, and just as clearly watching their conversation with avid interest. Flicking his eyes from the boy's nervous fidgeting to Abby's pinkening cheeks, Bruce tamped down on a smile.

"I suppose we have some time," he murmured, winking at Abby. Her slight blush flamed instantly, darkening from her hairline to her shirt collar, and she flicked him in reproach. Laughingly, he shooed her away and waited for them to advance a few feet before following, allowing Mrs. McShea to act as their escort.

The ragtag group was meandering through the Hall of Miniatures when Bruce's cell phone vibrated merrily in his pocket. Pulling it out, he answered. "Hello?"

" _You were due back an hour ago,_ " Clint said without preamble. " _Dinner smells fucking amazing and I skipped lunch._ "

Bruce bit back a wince. "We're still at the museum with part of the group. We can leave in a few minutes, though."

The other end of the phone was eerily silent, and, when he spoke again, Clint's voice was lethal. " _What group?_ "

"The home school co-op. We decided that the kids needed a field trip, so we all trekked to the natural history museum for group lessons," he replied with a frown, staring at his phone when the distinctive beep of a dropped call echoed.

Abby turned around from where Mrs. McShea was explaining the history of the transcontinental railroad. "Is everything alright, Uncle Bruce?"

"Everything's fine, shehad," he answered, with more reassurance than he felt. "Don't worry."

* * *

Tony was sliding into his car, tired from a long day of meetings and signing papers, when his phone blared to life. Peering down at the screen, he restrained the urge to roll his eyes at the caller ID.

"For the last time, Spangles, Tony Stark does not stop off at the grocery store for milk. Scotch, yes. Milk, no."

" _Shut up._ " Clint's voice was terse and ruffled, so Tony obliged him. " _Where are you?_ "

"Just about to leave my office," he answered with caution. An angry Clint never boded well. "Need something, Barton?"

" _Banner and Abby are the natural history museum on some field trip. Go get the kid._ "

Hanging up on Clint, Tony threw the car into reverse and sped out of the parking garage. He was at the museum in a matter of minutes and managed to park a few cars away from the Audi. Dashing up the stairs, he side-stepped a gaggle of young children exiting the building and stepped into the foyer.

He froze immediately, his heart leaping into his throat, at the sight beneath the giant Tyrannosaur skeleton. Bruce joined him, hands casually in his pockets. "Hey, Tony. I didn't know you were going to be dropping by."

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bruce blinked, taken aback at the quiet vehemence of Tony's tone. "We're learning about natural history," he replied slowly. "At the natural history museum."

Tony's resultant glare was damning and completely unexpected. He pointed one calloused finger at the McSheas. "Who the fuck is that?"

"That's Nora McShea and her son, Colin. They home school, too." Tony began charging off and Bruce hurried to catch up with him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting them away from my little girl," he snapped.

Bruce stopped, frowning. " _Our_  little girl," he reproached with irritation and Abby glanced away from the exhibit just in time to see Tony slide firmly in between her and the McSheas. Abby made a protesting noise as Tony began to herd her away.

"We're leaving," he said grimly, spinning around to face her. He clasped her upper arms, meeting her eyes gravely. "You don't know where that thing has been."

"Excuse me?" The mother was suddenly standing in his way, arms crossed in a tempered display of anger.

Tony gave her a dismissive once-over. "My pleasure," he muttered, walking around her and pulling Abby gently towards the door.

Bruce was watching the events from a small distance, his expression severe. Tony ignored the air of blatant disapproval on Bruce's face and moved to brush past him, but he was halted by a firm tug on his wrist. He immediately released his grip and, turning, he glanced down at Abby.

Her jaw was set, brows drawn low over her eyes in an expression that reminded him vividly of Natasha, as she stepped backwards, bumping lightly into Bruce's torso. Grappling, her hand found one of his and she held on tightly, using him as a human shield.

The action was like a white hot shiv and Tony was suddenly roiling with emotion. Staring, as she continued to cling to Bruce, Tony realized that his only options were to break down or leave. Bruce shot him a look that was full of sympathy and protest as he marched out the door. The slight hitch to her breathing alerted Bruce to Abby's tears.

"Come on," he murmured, nudging her towards the door. The McSheas looked desperately like they wanted to follow, Colin to console and Nora to interrogate, but Nora seemed to understand the situation and restrained herself.

Bruce and Abby arrived at the Audi in time to see Tony peal out of the parking garage, squealing his tires in his haste. A soft sob caught his attention and Bruce knelt to embrace the little girl.

"It's okay, shehad," he told her, rubbing a hand down her back as she leaned into him. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise."

She pulled back, trying to respond, but her words were mangled by her sobs. Thick tears streamed steadily down her face until she could barely breathe. Murmuring platitudes, Bruce buckled her into the car and began the long trek back to the mansion.

* * *

Ignoring the fact that Stark had hung up on him and assuming that the billionaire was rapidly on his way to handle the situation, Clint turned his ire towards Steve.

"Did you know about this?"

Steve turned from the stove, absently shutting the appliance with his foot. "Did I know about what?"

"Co-op field trips," Clint answered in a frigid tone.

"Well, yeah," the soldier replied, grabbing a stack of plates from the cabinet and setting them on the table. At Clint's dangerous silence, Steve looked up at the furious glare he was receiving and immediately became cautious. "Bruce and I thought it was a good idea."

Clint exploded. "How in the name of  _fuck_  could this be a good idea?" Steve resisted the urge to take a step away from the lethality that Clint was radiating. "She is in a  _program_  and programs mean  _records_  so she is in the fucking  _system,_  which means that any idiot with a computer and a grudge  _can trace her back to us_."

"We took precautions," Steve replied gently, trying to inject the situation with a sense of calm. "Bruce and I created a new identity for her, complete with a falsified birth certificate and social security card. We covered all the bases."

Clint snorted with derision. "How the fuck would you know how to do that? Look it up on the internet, did you?"

"I think," Steve began, trying to quell his own rising temper at Clint's jab. "That you are overreacting."

"And I think that you are not her father," the archer snapped.

Steve's eyes narrowed dangerously, his anger provoked. "I am as much her father as you are, and you know it."

"Well, congratulations,  _dad_ ," Clint mocked as the floor rumbled with the opening of the garage door. "You just exposed our greatest weakness to every madman and villain that wants to take us down."

Clint barreled down the stairs and Natasha's head popped up over the couch, glancing at Steve with understanding. Making a strangled, frustrated noise, Steve shook his head and followed Clint to the garage, Natasha trailing him.

Tony was slamming his door shut when they entered, the gesture fraught with rage and despair. He met Clint at the door to the labs.

"What the hell is going on?"

Tony snorted, running a hand through his hair. "I found her at the museum with some strange  _boy_."

"There  _are_  roughly four billion in the world," Natasha drawled, leaning against the door frame and ignoring Clint's glare of betrayal. "I'd wager most boys are strangers to her."

"That doesn't change the fact that none of them should be within three miles of my little girl," Tony snapped.

Steve sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So, are you angry that she was out in the world or that she was out in the world with a boy?"

Tony answered, "with a boy," at the same time that Clint snarled out, "in the world." They glanced at each other for a moment before replying "both" simultaneously.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You're acting like idiots."

"And Phil didn't trust you with her," Clint spat. The garage door opened a second time as Natasha's eyes flashed and she took one menacing step forward, arguing with Clint in what was probably Russian, all hard consonants and angry syllables.

"I can't believe you're okay with this, Rogers," Tony began, rounding on the soldier as Bruce helped Abby from the car. The scientist shook his head at the sight before him and waded into the fray. Clint turned on him almost immediately, abandoning Natasha to Tony's irritated ranting.

Abby paused by the Audi's bumper, her eyes welling with tears at the sight. Steve, granted a moment's reprieve from Clint and Tony's attention, crossed the garage in measured paces. Kneeling in front of her, he caught her when she launched herself into his grasp.

Her sobs lessened enough that she was able to explain the situation to him and he murmured consolingly. Wiping the tears from her face with his thumbs, he stood and made a gesture for attention. Clint and Bruce were toe to toe and completely ignoring him, but Natasha saw his signal and tried to quiet Tony.

Each of her attempts was met with a louder counter until the decibel level in the garage was obscene. Clint and Bruce had discarded their argument in favor of watching Tony and Natasha until Abby's small voice echoed in the basement. "Please, stop!"

" _What_?"

Tony's voice was like a whipcrack, sharp and cutting. The room stood silent for a moment, and Abby stepped back, physically shaken by the first time any of her family had ever raised their voice to her. Choking on a sob, she wrenched her hand from Steve's grip and tore through the garage, into the dusk.

Tony, looking just as traumatized, made a move to follow her, but Steve caught his arm as he passed. The billionaire appeared torn between breaking Steve's wrist in order to escape and desperate for some advice. Steve applied a hint of pressure on Tony's bicep, just enough to get Tony to meet his eyes.

"She thinks you hate her," the soldier murmured, his voice thick with sympathy, and Tony faltered.

" _Fuck_."

"Get a drink," Steve advised, and Tony glanced at him with surprise. "Get a drink before you go and take another one with you when you do. We both know that you think better with a bit of scotch."

Herding the others back upstairs, Steve left Tony in the garage. Heaving a sigh and feeling terribly like punching something, Tony downed four fingers' worth of scotch from the bottle stashed in his workbench. Pouring another two fingers' worth into a glass, he headed for the tree house that, despite Natasha's fervent opposition, he and Steve had eventually built.

The tree house's small camping lamp was lit in the darkening dusk and the soft sounds of crying drifted down the staircase. Shaking his head at himself, Tony carefully ascended the stairs and stopped outside the doorway.

"Can I come in?"

Abby looked up, startled, from the nest of pillows in the corner and Tony's heart dropped when he saw that she was curled around Phil C. Bear. They both hesitated for a long moment, until Abby nodded. He stepped inside and headed towards her, relieved that she shifted to make room for him.

Despite the fact that he was infinitesimally more used to dealing with crying females than he had been seven years ago , the interim had not helped Tony develop a method to dealing with them, other than presents. Counting on the scotch and osmosis from years of living with Steve to help him, he nudged her.

"What's up, munchkin?"

"Please don't hate me," she said immediately, and Tony almost choked on his drink.

"Why the hell would I hate you?" She began sniffling again and Tony put an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. "I could never hate you, scamp. Not even if you spent all of my money and stole my Iron Man suit."

"Then please don't hate Uncle Bruce or Uncle Steve." She looked up at him with liquid eyes and he huffed against the warm feeling behind his arc reactor.

"Why would I hate them?"

She buried her nose in his chest. "Because they let me go to the museum and meet Colin."

The mere mention of the kid's name had Tony's blood boiling and he took a long moment to control his emotions. "Who's Colin?"

She glanced at him sardonically, relaxing somewhat. "Colin is one of the boys in the co-op. He's really nice and his mama was a teacher. She knows a lot of stuff."

"I know a lot of stuff," Tony muttered petulantly, taking a sip from his tumbler. "Were you meeting Colin specifically?"

She blushed deeply, but shook her head. "No. But he's nice to me. He's my best friend!"

Tony contemplated her statement for a moment, the scotch bringing up his own lonely childhood memories. "And you want friends," he said slowly, suddenly remembering what it was like at boarding school when he was a boy.

"Well, everyone has friends in my books and on my TV shows," she replied, shrugging.

He glanced down at her bowed head. "You have us," he reminded her lightly, squeezing her shoulder. She rolled her eyes at him.

"That's different. Friends tell each other secrets and have crazy adventures but are back in time for bed and eat ice cream for dinner." Tony suppressed a grin at her version of friends. She huffed a little, crossing her arms. "Friends don't tell friends 'no'."

"That's not true," he protested, meeting her eyes seriously. "Uncle Steve tells me 'no' all the time."

She rolled her eyes at him again and Tony decided that that was an action they were going to have to nip in the bud before she reached the heart of her teen years. "Uncle Steve is your brother, not your friend. We're all a family. See how that's different?"

Tony took a deep drink to cover his surprise at her adroit interpretation of the Avengers. "I can see how you'd think that," he hedged, and that seemed to placate her. She fidgeted for a moment, picking at a loose string on one of the pillows.

"Are you mad at them?"

"For not telling anyone? Yes," he answered honestly. "But I think I understand why they did it."

She rose up on her knees and put her hands on his shoulders for balance, looking earnestly into his eyes. "You won't let Uncle Clint kill them, will you?"

Tony burst into laughter, setting his scotch on the floor and pulling her into a reassuring hug. "No, munchkin, I won't let Clint kill anyone."

"Good," she replied, her voice muffled by his suit. "Can I still be friends with Colin?"

Tony paused. "I think I might have offended his mother," he answered delicately.

"You did." Her response was lightning fast and matter-of-fact. Tony bit back on another laugh. "Maybe you could have Uncle Steve be charming."

He stared at her. "How do you know what charming is?"

"I don't," she countered with hesitation. "But that's what Aunt Pepper calls him when he makes Mister Fury not angry anymore."

Tony laughed so hard he could barely breathe, his face bright red. "Okay, munchkin. We'll have Uncle Steve charm the pants off Colin's mom, if it'll make you happy."

* * *

In the end, it took both Steve and Bruce to cajole Mrs. O'Shea into a lunch meeting in Central Park. Natasha had stayed behind, insisting that she would be more intimidating than was really necessary, and Thor remained in Asgard.

The group stopped at a hot dog cart for lunch and Steve coaxed Nora into ordering the meal with him. Bruce offered to help carry things while Clint and Tony staked out a table. Abby shoved Colin into a seat across from the two men and went to hover at Nora's side, waiting for instructions.

Tony focused his attention on the boy and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. Colin leaned back in response. "Do you know who I am?" Colin nodded and Tony narrowed his eyes. "Who am I?"

"You're Tony Stark," Colin breathed, voice rife with open admiration. "You're  _Iron Man_."

Tony nodded and jerked a thumb at Clint. "Who's he?"

"Hawkeye," Colin replied, his voice smaller.

"Good," Clint said, leaning forward. "Then you know what we can do."

The boy gulped, his face pale with a healthy dose of fear. Clint set his elbow on the table, propping his chin on one hand.

"So what do you do for fun?"

Colin's voice was a little quivery. "When I'm not studying, I like to read books. Real books, with adventures, and also comic books. And I play video games after dinner, sometimes."

Clint query of "What kind of comic books?" perfectly overlapped with Tony's question of "What's your favorite subject?" and Colin glanced from superhero to superhero, trying to decide which one to answer first.

Bruce brought a carrier of drinks over and set one decisively in front of Tony, purposefully meeting Colin's wide eyes for a moment. Colin nodded and hesitantly brought his gaze to Tony's expectant stare.

"I like science. And math too, but mostly science." Bruce set another soda in front of Clint and Colin continued bravely. "I like the new Avengers comics, but my dad's old Captain America comics are cool too."

Bruce smiled reassuringly at him, turning to retrieve the other carrier of drinks. Tony shifted into Colin's line of vision, breaking the longing look he was giving Bruce's retreating back. "What kind of science?"

The boy frowned. "Not biology," he answered, with a little shake of his head for emphasis. He relaxed at Tony's grunt of approval. "I liked chemistry. And Mom is teaching me physics now. That's really cool."

Bruce returned with the rest of the drinks and moved to take the seat beside Tony. "That's for Abby," the billionaire announced, holding out a hand to stop him. Nodding, Bruce deferred and took the empty place beside Clint.

Tony continued his interrogation. "Favorite color?"

"Green," Colin replied, without hesitation.

Clint arched a brow at the boy. "What kind of green?"

"Are we talking kelly green, pea green, or Hulk green?" Tony elaborated.

The boy flicked his eyes towards Bruce, looking almost apologetic. "Hulk green."

Bruce smirked into his cup as Steve and Nora began setting containers of hot dogs and fries on the table. Abby added a few things to the pile and skirted the men's side of the table to sit at Colin's right. The poor boy took on a grey tinge as she sat down, an involuntary response to the silent, heated argument Abby and Tony were having with their eyes.

Lunch consisted of Bruce and Steve trying to make conversation with Nora, who appeared to be desperately trying to forgive Tony. Her efforts were proving difficult, as Tony continued to alternate between speaking silently to Abby and eyeing Colin with an expression more at home on a hungry lion. When Colin seemed to waver under the scrutiny, Abby would kick Tony's shin beneath the table, and the cycle would begin again. Clint merely watched the entirety of the proceedings, formulating his own opinions.

Steve and Bruce breathed sighs of relief when lunch was over and the group began to migrate towards the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the day's educational aspect. Abby tugged Colin in the direction of the museum, chattering to fill the silence until he relaxed. Nora and Steve followed along behind them, watching the children's progress. Tony and Clint tracked the young pair in a manner that reminded Bruce of hunting predators as he brought up the rear.

The children seemed to be excited to view the art collection, and Nora was well versed in the different pieces.

"Did you study art?"

She smiled at Steve's question, Clint lingering close enough to hear her answer. "No," she replied. "My late husband was the curator of a small collection downtown. He taught me everything he knew before the army called up the reservists for Iraq."

Clint shifted on his feet. "I'm sorry for your loss."

She glanced back at him, surprised, but thanked him graciously. "Patrick was one of the first to deploy, and one of the first to fall," she murmured, watching as Abby tugged Bruce and Colin towards a Monet. "Colin was barely a toddler, and the children at school didn't know how to handle death or a grieving boy. It was kinder to home school him than it was to see him come home every day in tears."

"He needs a man in his life," Clint muttered to himself, thinking of the research on social behaviors that Steve and Bruce had shoved at him. They'd sat in his room, watching him read and ensuring that he'd understood their motives, and even gone so far as to quiz him when he had finished the packet.

Nora grinned. "Are you offering?" Steve snorted a laugh when Clint turned to her with wide eyes, and she chuckled softly at him to show that she was teasing. "I am well aware of the benefits of the village style of child-rearing, which was why I began exposing Colin to the co-op."

"Maybe we could start a study group," Steve suggested, ignoring Clint's elbow digging into his ribcage. "It might be beneficial. Colin mentioned earlier that he was starting physics lessons."

"And there's no one better at physics than Tony Stark, correct?" Nora's tone was light, but there was an air of caution about her that Steve felt the need to alleviate.

"Tony has taken over some of our science lessons, filling in where Bruce feels that he's less inclined," he admitted. "But Abby is at the point where she usually just needs a flat surface to put her books on. Tony rarely teaches in the true sense anymore."

She peered at him. "Are you or Doctor Banner usually around?"

"Don't trust us?" Clint crossed his arms, feeling an absurd sense of vindication.

"With my son's life? Of course I do," she shot back, her voice low to avoid attracting attention. "I am well aware of who you all are, despite Abby's attempts to lie, and I know that you would never let physical harm come to my son. But not all injuries are physical and I am also very, very aware of what it means to be a parent. I might not understand your fears completely, but I have a healthy respect for them, which means that I understand that Colin and I are firmly in the 'threat' category at the moment."

Clint stared at her, his facial muscles twitching with the effort it took to maintain the appearance of nonchalance.

Nora heaved a sigh and rubbed her hand across her forehead, watching Colin and Abby laugh at the portrait of a stuffy old man. "But I also know that our children are best friends. And for that, I'm willing to try. If you feel more comfortable keeping Abby at home, then I will let Colin stop by for lessons, if, and only if, Captain Rogers or Doctor Banner stays with them."

"I think we can arrange that," Steve replied solemnly. When Clint remained silent, Steve poked at him and he nodded jerkily in response, turning swiftly on one heel and disappearing. Nora watched him leave with mingled emotions. "When would you like to start?"

"Hm?"

Steve smiled at her. "Clint will be fine."

"I think I may have offended him," she said contritely. "I feel a bit bad about that."

"Don't." Steve's answer was gentle, but firm. "I'll handle Clint. When would you like to start combining lessons?"

"Honestly, I have a lot of chores that need to be done without a rambunctious teen underfoot. Would tomorrow be too inconvenient?"

Steve shook his head. "Tomorrow it is."

* * *

The McSheas were due to arrive at nine and Steve had instructed Bruce to meet them at the door. Tony, having found out the plans, had alternated between glaring at Steve for his betrayal and assuring Abby that he was going to be on his best behavior. The young girl was helping him set up a few lab demos in the backyard, and Clint was suspiciously absent.

Having a decent idea of where the archer was holed up, Steve made his way down to the labs. Climbing up onto Tony's workbench, Steve punched the vent grill in. He braced his elbows on either side of the opening and poked his head through.

Clint glared at him momentarily and continued to sharpen one of his combat knives. "Did you need something, Cap?"

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay with the situation."

Clint raised his brows. "Didn't think I had much of a choice."

"Don't start," Steve warned, and Clint took a long look at him. "Abby was in my room half the night, worried sick that you and Tony were going to scare off her only friend. I assured her that you were not."

Clint was quiet for another few minutes. Steve heard Bruce bring Colin and Nora inside, the front door creaking loudly in his enhanced ears. Abby's cheerful greeting was juxtaposed with Tony's low voice, and still Clint was silent.

"I still think that this is all a liability."

Steve repressed the urge to snort at him. "Clint, Abby was a liability for us the second Phil signed her over to you. Nothing is going to change that, and we can't punish her for it."

"It's not a punishment," Clint snapped, his eyes flashing.

Steve cocked his head, gaze sympathetic. "Caging her in the mansion with only a surly group of superheroes can't be the life Phil wanted her to have. We need to give her the kind of life that she deserves, not the one that's going to help us sleep better at night. That's not what parenthood is about."

Relaxing his shoulders, Steve fell back through the opening and dropped lightly onto the workbench. He was at the door when Clint slipped out of the vent to join him. Steve didn't comment, but he smiled warmly at the archer as the shorter man passed him and walked upstairs.

Tony was back in the yard, fiddling with one of the catapults for the demo. Bruce was standing over him, holding what was likely a conversation similar to the one that Steve and Clint had just finished. Colin and Abby were seated at the table in the lounge, heads bent over a set of practice problems.

Steve's cell phone rang shrilly from his bedroom upstairs and he startled. Motioning at Bruce, he darted up the stairwell. Colin and Abby looked up at the commotion, eyes curious. Clint stood, arms crossed, at the threshold to the lounge for half a beat.

Walking into the kitchen, he plucked glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water, setting them firmly on the table. Abby, clearly having spent too much time listening to Natasha's stories, leaned over and took a sip from the glass seated next to Colin. Clint shook his head at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

Flipping out his switchblade, he stabbed it into one of the apples in the table's centerpiece. He hitched himself onto the counter, propping one foot on a chair and letting the other dangle. Steve tumbled back down the stairs, just far enough to keep an eye on the lounge, in deference to Nora's request.

Colin watched Clint with earnest, his homework long abandoned. Taking the knife out and licking the juice dripping from the flat of the blade, Clint proceeded to carve a slice from the fruit and pop it into his mouth. Walking into the kitchen, Steve flicked his ear in reproach, muttering responses into his phone as he rifled through the catch-all drawer for a pen and paper.

Tony slid the patio door open with his elbow, his hands covered in grease, and Clint tossed a towel at him. Steve finally ended his call and Bruce began a low conversation with the soldier immediately. Walking over to the kids, Tony brushed a kiss to Abby's hair, murmuring praises at her homework. Glancing over Colin's shoulder, he pressed one filthy finger to the page.

"This is wrong," he informed him, sliding the offending digit and smearing grease across the answer.

Colin froze, and both Clint and Tony watched as he forced himself to relax. "I don't think so, sir."

"Do you know who I am?" Tony ignored the tiny glare Abby shot in his direction.

"I haven't forgotten since yesterday, sir." The kid's answer was ballsy enough that Tony lifted his gaze to Clint, sharing an amused glance.

"Then you know that I'm right."

Colin shifted in his seat. "I still don't think so, sir," he replied, his voice gaining strength.

Wiping his hands on the towel and tossing it back at Clint, Tony dropped to the ground beside Colin. "Then tell me why. Step by step."

Pushing his paper towards Tony, Colin began to explain. Bruce and Steve shared a knowing glance and grinned.

* * *

The team, in general, was growing more comfortable with co-op activities, and had unanimously nominated Bruce to take Abby on any excursions. When he'd asked why, Tony had smirked at him.

"It's less that we're sending you to take care of Abby," he'd hedged, his eyes twinkling. "And more that we're sending Hulk."

"Let's face it," Clint had told him laughingly. "Someone comes after our kid, Hulk's the best one to protect her. Nothing gets past him."

Bruce had shaken his head, but privately agreed.

Joint homework sessions continued spectacularly, and it seemed that the way to Tony's approval was a gift for math and science. Colin was growing more and more at ease in the mansion, and the kids were even helping Tony build a Rube Goldberg machine to trap the gophers that were in Bruce's garden.

Nora sometimes stayed to converse with the other adults or to teach a few lessons herself, but she was occasionally reliant on the Avengers to babysit while she completed various errands and chores. When her mother fell ill, Bruce all but insisted that Colin stay with them for a day or two, so that he wouldn't miss the co-op's end of year party. Nora was hesitant, but Tony's begrudging invitation, and assurance that Colin would be taken care of, mollified her.

Which was why, when Bruce returned from the party with a tear-streaked Abby and a bloodied Colin in tow, Tony balked.

"Damn it, Bruce, what the hell happened?"

"They wouldn't tell me," Bruce replied testily, marching into the kitchen for a first aid kit and some ice. Clint joined the group, his eyes flicking curiously from Bruce to the children. Colin would poke at his healing wound ever so often, continuously reopening it and creating a fresh streak of blood. "Maybe they'll tell you."

At the ire in his voice, Abby darted to his side and threw her arms around him. He sighed softly, but returned her embrace and tried to calm himself. Tony dropped his hands to his knees and peered at Colin's bloody nose.

"Care to share?"

Clint moved to stand behind Tony and Colin sniffed, rubbing a hand at the blood drying on his face. "Kayla was being mean to Abby again, 'cause Abby's so much smarter than she is. And normally, Abby's fine handling Kayla by herself, but her brother was there today and Marcus is a lot meaner than Kayla." He looked into Tony's eyes fiercely. "So when he started teasing her, I told him to stop. And when he didn't, I clocked him in the jaw."

Tony gave him a half smile, pulling the handkerchief from his suit jacket's breast pocket. Clint simply shook his head and stepped forward, ruffling the boy's hair.

"We're going to have to work on your hand to hand, kid."


End file.
